Harry Potter and the Adjective Noun
by jadechopsticks9594
Summary: "...and that was how he became to be known as Moldypants..." Harry suspects Ron likes his Draco and is jealous. Hilarity ensues as he battles his feelings for his mortal enemy  love  and towards his best friend  hate .


**A/N- New story. Yay. Chopsticks doesn't know. I guess I have to...I don't know...go tell her or something. Ooh, anyone wants to see her dance? PM me. Eh...sorry, where was I again? I have a short attention span. Like a fish. All my brothers' guppies have died, by the way. We're left with...five neon tetras. At least, I _think_ that's what they are...**

**TITLE: HARRY POTTER AND THE ADJECTIVE NOUN**

**STORY:**

**Harry Likes Draco. Ron likes Draco. Is Draco worth screwing their friendship over?**

**Hermione likes Ron. Ron likes Ginny. Ginny likes Lavender. Lavender likes Romilda. It's a confusing chain.**

**Ron likes Draco. Ron likes Hermione. Ron likes Ginny. Ron likes Lavender. Ron likes Romilda. Who is the right one for him?**

** Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts proves the most challenging yet for our favourite young wizard as he battles a crush on his so-called enemy, falls in love with his best friend and turns him down for his crush. Meanwhile, his bet friend, heart in tatters, decides to break all the young hearts in the school but falls for his sister instead. With new friendships, huge breakups, forged allegiances and the everlasting fight between good and** **evil, Harry's fifth year is one worthy of a CW time slot.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. I doubt anyone on fanfiction does. ****Because if I did I'd be sitting on my ass laughing as my hired evil minions shoot the moon and invade Atlantis for me.**

**CHAPTER ONE ~ JADE**

This breathtakingly beautiful though horrendously bittersweet love story starts with an insult.

No, it starts with a laugh.

No, it starts with clothes.

No, it-

Damn, I'm messing this up, aren't I? I'll start again.

This gorgeous, Romeo-and-Juliet-esque classic…

Oh god, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! I can't do it! My thesaurus is behaving like a French worker on strike and not coming up with any more synonyms for "beautiful"!

I know! I'll cut out all the Stephenie-Meyer-isms and simply get on with the story. No flowery words, no purple prose- that's it!

This story starts with discrimination. Not the common sort of discrimination, mind you, but a discrimination so long forgotten that four kids were allowed to be born. What am I talking about?

A long, long time ago, back when witches didn't use to be only female, lived four witches. Wizards- whatever you want to call them.

There was the blonde Helga Hufflepuff, the prissy Rowena Ravenclaw, the vivacious Godric Gryffindor and the proud and beautiful Salazar Slytherin. Mind you, Godric and Salazar were both men- ignore the adjectives I used to describe them.

Discrimination was what joined them…

Rowena was partial to intelligence- she chose several smart humans and taught them magic; Godric liked bravery- he picked out the strongest of the humans as his students; Salazar…well, he picked out humans who were born to royal families- he liked power; ditzy Helga had her pick of equally ditzy humans and thus the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry commenced.

Yet discrimination was also what separated them…

There was a disagreement between Salazar and Godric and the girls and soon people decided that Salazar was…bad.

But what is bad? Supposedly, discrimination. Anyway, come a couple of millennia and two little boys were born. Three, actually, unless you count the countless numbers of others who are insignificant to the story.

The three boys. Right. One was ugly- his name was Ron Weasley.

Ron Weasley, it is sad to say, lived up to his name. He slightly resembled a weasel the way jail inmates look like skunks and stink like them too. He had red hair that wasn't even red and horrific eyebags that made him look worse than fugly…

He had a best friend, surprisingly. That's the second guy I was going to mention. They met in a train toilet and after doing the deed, they became fast friends- friends with benefits, technically, but only because he went all mama-bear and scared away his best friend's secret boyfriend.

Wait- that's not right. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Ron Weasely didn't like Harry Potter- that's the second guy. In fact, he had a thing for his own little sister Ginny Weasely which he found out about after he caught her making out with Dean Thomas in a hallway.

But that's irrelevant. So Ron Weasely met Harry Potter in a train compartment, not the toilet. Ron was a bit of a sadist even at eleven and started talking about scars and cuts and pain.

Now, Harry Potter had a scar on his forehead. Ron got so turned on after he found out that-

Sorry- that didn't happen.

The story is about love- a beautiful gay love between a passionate boy named Harry Potter and a gorgeous one named Draco Malfoy.

They first met at a boutique, both shopping for clothes. Emo-looking black girly robes. It was love at first sight.

Harry Potter had a scar on his forehead- that's probably why he is liked by girls and guys alike. Nothing like a scarred boyfriend, she says. I'm a sadist, he says.

Of course, Harry didn't care much for girls. He had longish black hair and pretty almond-shaped green eyes. The only girl he actually liked was his dear friend Hermione Granger, but then again he had always thought of her as a guy. Not in that sense, of course. He wasn't attracted to Hermione Granger- with that horribly girly wavy long hair, those terrible mood swings, fetish for make-up…of course not.

He liked, instead, Draco Malfoy. The first human who treated him normally after he found out that he was a witch. Hagrid the Giant didn't count. Besides, Hagrid was ugly. If there was a contest for ugly witches, the judges would not be able to decide who was uglier- Hagrid or Ron Weasely.

Draco Malfoy would have gotten last, hands down. While Harry was an acquired taste, Draco Malfoy was an Adonis with ash-blond hair and silvery-grey eyes. Not that Adonis was good-looking; compared to Draco, he most definitely wasn't.

And then they met again. Harry was in the train compartment with the fugly perv Ron Weasely, who had a thing for frogs and suddenly the compartment door flew open. His mind going into overdrive after seeing two hot guys in his(!) compartment, he finally decided that Draco was the more handsome and started to make fun of his name. A display of the little-boy-pulling-her-pigtails-syndrome, what else?

After Draco steadfastedly ignored the fugly perv and hit on Harry instead, he commanded his pet rat to bite Draco. This is the last time you'll ever hear of Ron Weasely. He is simply not worth mentioning.

Well, the jealous Ron- okay, I lied. Don't kill me!- turned Harry away from Draco by making Draco sound like a bad person.

Again, I ask: what is bad? Lying, for one. I made you a promise that I did not keep. Shit, I shouldn't have made that promise…the fugly perv makes it his duty to force himself into the story…you know who he is.

Bloody hell, what a brilliant idea! We'll call him you-know-who in this story. He is the villain. He wears the pants. But then again he doesn't- he-who-must-not-be-named thinks that underwear is a waste of time.

"Mate, which one do you think Ginny'll like better?" you-know-who asked Harry one day in sixth year, holding up two pairs of underwear. One were gay spandex briefs and another were white boxers with mud-green splotches on them.

Harry frowned, his mind mentally scarred with the idea of you-know-who wearing the spandex. He found that Ron looked distinctly rodent-like and would have looked...horrible in it. Now, if it was Malfoy wearing it... His mind wandered to perverted thoughts concerning his arch-enemy.

Wait- this was Malfoy he was thinking about...a possible Death Eater...what was he thinking?

Of course, he did know what he was thinking- he just...did not want to think it of Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy.

No. Not Malfoy. Bad idea. No, Harry was not going to think about his smirking silver eyes. He was not going to think about his beautiful, slender artist's hands. He was not going to think about his gorgeous, positively godlike HAIR...those luscious ash-blonde locks...darn it. He was doing all those, wasn't he?

Why was this happening to him? He was the boy who lived, not the boy who fell for a dea- Whoa, whoa...wasn't that going a little too fast? He was not falling for Malfoy. He. Was. Not. Fucking. Falling. For. Draco. Malfoy.

Malfoy might have been hot, but the fact remained that he was a death eater. Harry gritted his teeth. Why was he even thinking about Draco Malfoy, anyway? Oh yeah, Ron and his underpants.

Oops, I'm sorry. It turns out that Ron Weasely actually does wear underpants. My bad.

"Oi, Harry! Which one?" Ron repeated, shoving the two underpants in Harry's face. "What's wrong, mate?" he frowned at the nonresponsive Harry. "You rather look as if in constipation!"

Brought back to the present from his hypothalamus, Harry's thoughts went '?'. He frowned at Ron. "You sound like a bloody dictionary, mate."

"Lexicon," Ron corrected.

Harry looked at him.

"I may have been hanging around Hermione quite a lot," Ron admitted.

"What, man? I thought you didn't like her," Harry said in response.

Ron opened his mouth and closed it again. He looked rather like a fish that moment. And then he looked like a weasel again. "Which underwear?" he mumbled abashedly at Harry, recovering quickly from Harry's hurtful question.

Thinking that Ron's relationships with all the girls were a little complicated, Harry shook his head. At least, with fantasizing about Draco, nothing would ever actually happen.

Wait a minute...since when did he become "Draco"?

"Are those mushrooms?" Harry asked Ron, referring to the mud-green splotches on the boxers.

Damn it, Malfoy was Malfoy to him. Not Draco or any terms of endearment.

Ron frowned, "I don't think so, mate. Mushrooms are usually brown, aren't they?"

"Erm...they could be moldy ones," Harry suggested helpfully.

"Maybe," Ron soaked in this piece of information. "I'm wearing this one," he decided, meaning the moldy underwear.

And that was how he came to be known as Moldypants.

"Hey, where're you going?" Harry asked. "Quidditch match later...Hufflepuff versus Slytherin. Aren't you going to watch?"

"Slytherin?" Moldypants made a face. "What for? To watch Crabbe-on-Goyle action? Wait, I know- to watch Malfoy," he said 'Malfoy' bitterly, "steal another victory."

Harry winced. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to discuss his current "feelings" for Dra- Malfoy with Moldy- Ron.

Just how was he supposed to say it? Erm, Ron... I want to watch the Hufflepuff-Slytherin game because I have a thing for Malfoy. Yeah, the one who could possibly be a Death Eater... Well, I find him kind of...hot.

"I'm gonna go look for Ginny, mate," Ron called, oblivious to Harry's inner turmoil.

Harry frowned. Wasn't Ron currently going out with Lavender or Romilda or whoever her name was? Wasn't Ginny...Harry's ex? That was extremely disturbing. Whose side was he supposed to stand on? His best friend's side? Or his ex's, who was incidentally a good friend of his as well?

Life was complicated...

"Harry!" came a voice.

Harry looked up to see Hermione waving a sheet of parchment with the words "Mrs Draco Malfoy Mrs Draco Malfoy Mrs Draco Malfoy" in front of him...written in his handwriting...

"I didn't write that!" Harry defended automatically.

But Hermione just shook her head, "I know you didn't. This is just the results of a spell I casted...It's simply wonderful! You can find out a person's deepest desires by just-"

"Hermione," Harry said.

"Right," she nodded. "So I tried this spell on you to begin with, and this," she pointed to the paper, "-turned out."

"Maybe your spell was faulty," Harry suggested guiltily.

Hermione frowned, "How could my spell have been faulty?"

"Try it on Ron," Harry suggested wickedly, having a distinct idea as to what would turn up.

Hermione raised an eyebrow dubiously, "Okay..."

"Just go," said Harry, irritably. Hermione was intruding on his search for Malfoy. He had followed the Marauders' Map to the Room of Requirements and had planned to wait out for Malfoy. He had also stupidly forgotten to wear his invisibility cloak and was visible to the naked eye. Naked Malfoy...yum...

"Why are you sitting out here?" Hermione had to ask him skeptically before she relieved him of her delightful company, "It's not your turn to guard the room...and where's your invisibilty cloak?"

Harry shook his head, "I thought Ron might be here. I was looking for him," he lied.

"Ron's looking for you," Hermione told him. "He said he thought you wanted to go watch the match later. He wanted to know if you'd be fine to his inviting Lavender and Ginny along," she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Harry nodded vaguely, not really listening to her...that is, until he heard that highly offensive question. "Don't you have the Marauders' Map with you? If I didn't know better, I'd say that you're stalking Malfoy."

Then she stalked off.

Harry froze in shock. Stalking Malfoy? No, no, no! He most definitely was not.

He heard a miaw and looked around. When was he going to have some privacy? He needed peace and quiet to stalk-

Nope, he wasn't stalking anyone!

Damn, this weird "feeling" wasn't going to go away, wasn't it?

"Miaw," he heard again. Mmm, Draco purring with content as he- goddamn!

What was he thinking. The purring got louder and more self-satisfied, with a hint of laughter. Damn, even Mrs. Norris was laughing at him!

Mrs. Norris? Oh shit!

"Hello, Filchie..." Harry's voice faltered as he saw the guy. To the rest of the students at Hogwarts, Filch was mean and annoying, but...well, let's just say Filch had propositioned Harry before. With manacles. And it wasn't just once- Filchie mentioned handcuffs everytime he saw Harry.

No doubt Filchie found it kinky, but Harry prefered his guys...younger...blonder...more grey-eyed...beautiful...

No, he wasn't thinking of Malfoy.

"Back in those days, we would chain naughty boys like you to four wooden posts," Filchie sniffed. "And twisted you into impossible positions so that you'd-"

Then the little girl appeared. Harry took this moment to run. He suddenly didn't care about waiting for Malfoy anymore. He was horribly turned off with the thoughts of Filchie and manacles...he shuddered.

Some people should just lay off the manacles...

Little girl? Oh shit, Harry mentally hit himself on the head. Hermione had a theory that Malfoy and his cronies Crabbe and Goyle took turns to stand guard at the Room of Requirements where they seemed to hide...as little girls. Why else would there be random little girls running around the place? That also was the last thing Harry would have expected...

He quickly hid in a creviche on the wall and fumbled for the Marauders' Map. He froze as he saw the name 'Draco Malfoy' floating around where the Room of Requirement was...

Before he knew what was happening, he found himself running back to where Filchie's cat had caught him skulking. Yes, skulking, not stalking.

"Malf..." the words died on Harry's lips as the little girl who had saved him from Filchie appeared in sight.

"So Hermione was right," he said quietly to the little girl who was blinking furiously, possibly in desperate thought how to get out of the situation.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he pleaded towards the girl.

He got a nervous blink in return.

"What are you doing always hiding around here, Malfoy?"

The little girl looked startled and stared at Harry as if she was caught doing something horrible. Looking frightened, she ran towards something that seemed to be behind Harry.

Harry turned back just in time to see a door close then fade to existence. Damn it, even Malfoy was scared of him. He really was a stalker...

Sighing heavily, he took out the Marauders' Map and checked for Filchie and Minnie...nope, they were both back in their offices...the coast was clear.

As he was beginning to descend a fligh of staircase that led directly to the ground floor, he caught a glimpse of something that shocked him numb...

Draco Malfoy. Somewhere around the kitchens. Damn it, who was that girl, then? That g-g-gi- oh shit!

Harry closed his eyes and banged his head against the banister. "Dobby..." he whispered.

He was obviously surprised to hear the house elf answer, "Yes, master?"

His eyes immediately flew open. "Dobby..." he smiled weakly.

"What can Master Potter be wanting, sir?"

A thought came to Harry's mind. "Have you seen Malfoy, Dobby?"

The house-elf frowned, "Master Draco?"

Harry nodded, hoping against hope that Dobby would somehow tell him that the little girl whom he was talking to was, indeed, Draco.

"Yes, Master Potter. Master Draco is being eating in the kitchens..." No way Draco could have gotten to the ktchens faster than he did...

Harry fumbled around for his map to stare at in confusion. There was a little dot walking out of the Room of Requirement, but...

He looked up just in time to see the little girl-figure scurrying past him. He stared at the map again. Funnily...the map said that the little girl's real name was...Ronald Wea-

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Damn, damn, damn… Damn it, what was Ron doing, masquerading as a little girl…was he…was he in league with Malfoy and his minions?

Fuck that, he was probably seeing Malfoy behind his back…the evil liar…

Harry stormed off to find Hermione to tell her everything…Hermione was temperamental and got jealous easily and he knew that she liked Ron, so…he was betting on those facts if he was right, he would win; if he was not, no one would. It was a totally safe plan.

_Harry n'est pas jaloux..._

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